


Du Kommer Att

by Pseudthisyafucks (collettephinz)



Category: Youtube - RPF
Genre: M/M, Soulmate AU, Suicide, happiness is dead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-10
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2019-06-08 08:21:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15239286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/collettephinz/pseuds/Pseudthisyafucks
Summary: Jack's at the end of his rope, so he finds a bridge and ignores the words on his skin that are supposed to be the answer to all his problems.





	Du Kommer Att

**Author's Note:**

> idk blame sophia

“There’s a light at the end of the tunnel that’s in the shape of the words on your wrist.”

That’s what his therapist had told him. Jack wanted to trust her, had fought to listen and understand and believe, but he wasn’t strong enough. Too much had happened that one person couldn’t fix, even if it was his soulmate. The first and last words his soulmate would ever say to him were on his left and right arm, respectively. The left read, “what are you doing?” and the right read, _“du kommer att,”_ and that was it, cut off without any punctuation. Jack was sure that he’d been meant to die by some freak accident, maybe falling off a cliff while taking a selfie, or falling off his roof while cleaning leaves from the gutter.

He knew he would never find out. He’d always wondered how many people had taken matters into their own hands and gone against the soul-mark words. He wondered what happened to the words of the other person, if they faded away or changed. Most soulmate marks faded or even burned away with death, but no one had ever really found out what happened if the meeting was avoided entirely. People said there was no such thing as freewill in world where the universe itself dictated who you were meant to love. Jack agreed and decided he was going to be selfish.

The bridge wasn’t familiar, as he was in an unfamiliar city. San Fransisco was a garbage place full of garbage people, everyone rushing about, too focused on their own agenda to really give a shit about anyone else. He’d come here to meet this one final clinical psychiatrist at the request of his therapist, one last effort to see if there was anything that could fight back the darkness in Jack’s head. No one knew what was wrong with him, not really. And now they knew they couldn’t fix him. 

If he’d told them the truth, they could have easily learned what was wrong. How his family had had too many kids they didn’t want, how his parents hadn’t given two shits about his future and let him botch it all up with grace and chaos, how the words on his skin were too fucking vague and written in masculine script, and how half of it was in _fucking Swedish._ Jack would never be able to afford to go to Sweden, so he would never meet his soulmate. It was a hopeless dead end, and he wasn’t even gay! He’d tried to imagine being with a guy, touching hard muscle instead of soft curves, kissing someone with more of a beard than him, having a second dick in the equation. It made his stomach roil and his Catholic upbringing screech of sin and evil in his head. There was a lot wrong with him that they could have fixed if Jack had just felt like he could tell the truth.

It was too late now.

Staring down into the freezing, roiling waters in this unfamiliar city, Jack knew that he was making the right decision. No soulmate should have to put up with him. No one deserved to be bogged down with his problems. No one should be forced to love him just because they had words on their skin saying they shared the same soul. The universe was cruel and Jack was going to be selfish.

That was what he wanted to think. But right now, standing on the railing, looking down, he wasn’t selfish. He was only afraid.

Heaving gasps and sobs were being torn from his chest, his vision blurring with tears. He couldn’t breathe right and he was shaking so badly. Every bone in his body was telling him to climb back down and turn around, but that was just his body willing itself to survive. Jack knew that once he did step down, he’d be back to feeling like the lowest of humanity, useless and broken and wasted. He couldn’t back down. He couldn’t go back to feeling that way. He could’t go back to hating his reflection and drinking until he passed out because he was too scared to fall asleep. No, he’d suffer momentarily now to avoid suffering ever again. It was the right thing to do. 

Jack turned his head up towards the black sky, to the clouds and smog that covered the stars, and forced himself to take in one long, final breath. 

“What are you doing?”

Jack turned and saw a blond man, his brow knit together with concern, ice-blue eyes shining, walking closer. The words, the fucking words, they were—

They were innocuous. They were common. This wasn’t him, because Jack had been selfish and taken his fate into his own hands. Jack stared at the man, at the pale skin and the curve of his neck and his scruffy beard. He was genuinely beautiful. Jack’s heart seized at the sinful thought. Jack swallowed hard and said, “I swear this is what I want.” The man reached out and Jack swung back to let himself fall.

The man shot forward, reaching out even more, too little, too late. He shouted, _”du kommer att—“_ before his voice disappeared to the roaring of the air past Jack’s ears.

It couldn’t have been possible, but Jack could swore he saw the words on that man’s arms as he’d fallen away. The same on both arm, in familiar script, “I swear this is what I want.”

The realization of who that man was became the last thought in Jack’s head as he hit the water.


End file.
